I can’t wait to be a senior citizen. That is assuming I age gracefully. Being an old geezer is just so full of possibilities. I mean sure I will have to get my prostate checked a whole lot more often, I will probably become reliant on pills to function, and pooping will become an adventure, but aside from that crap (literally) there are some great perks. There’s the obvious stuff like discounts at the movies, the senior citizen menu at Denny’s, and of course retirement, but then there’s also the not so obvious stuff.
Election day I waited on line for fortyfive minutes to vote (not so bad, but still). I get to the very front and this old lady comes out of nowhere like a geriatric ninja and skips me. She acted like she never even saw the line. Did the people in charge of the booth tell her old ass to get in line? Nope. Then to top it off she had the nerve to take forever in the booth. Did I complain? Nope.
Another one. The other day I was at an intersection waiting for a light to turn green. Just as the light was getting ready to change an old man starts to cross the street. There he is in the middle of the intersection strolling along, light green over his head, line of cars patiently waiting on his every shuffle. Did anyone honk? Nope. Would he have given a crap if anybody honked? Nope. That is power my friends. I want that power for myself.
The other thing that struck me about the old man was his clothes. I’ll start from the head and work my way down. He had brown and tan fishing hat, bifocals, a dark green members only jacket, a bright red shirt, dark blue shorts, bright yellow knee high athletic socks (I wouldn’t even know where to look for those), and the cherry on top (or on the bottom in this case) were his burgundy loafers. This man looked like a walking (well shuffling at least) Jackson Pollack painting. If you had seen his face. It was the picture of serenity. He looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. I want that serenity for myself. “Look at me world! I am wearing bright yellow knee highs and burgundy dress shoes. Deal with it!”… If only.
The thing I really can’t wait to do though is speak my mind whenever I want and to whomever I want. I mean there are plenty of people who claim to do this, but really no one can speak their mind as freely as old people. First off if I tell some jerk kid to shut the fuck up now, there is a good chance that I will have a scrap on my hands. If I am an oldie telling some little asshole to pipe down, that is much less likely to happen. They may ignore me, but damnit it’ll be fun to bitch at them anyway. Then there’s all the crazy shit that I think to myself but never say in public. Or the perverted things I think about women but never say (judge me all you want but I know even women think perverted things about other women in public sometimes). You know like “Geez lady how did you even get into them tight ass jeans?” I am saying it and hiding behind the veil of senility as my defense. Do you have any idea how liberating that will be? I can’t wait I tell you!
Well that’s all I got today. Hope I helped quell some of the fear of aging some of you out there have. I’ll leave you with this sidenote because I want all of you to know that I kick ass…
Sidenote: So yesterday I didn’t post because I was getting ready for a big meeting I had this morning. I had to hold court with all of my company’s VPs and department heads. Knocked that shit out the park and right in time for reviews next month. Hells yeah! Time to celebrate. Break out the Hennessy.